Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Draco sat in the best armchair by the fireplace, his face grim, with Crabbe and Goyle standing guard on either side of him like two mountains of flesh.

The kind that doesn't have the protection of immortality.

"Potter was taken away by Professor McGonagall," Draco said to Pansy and Daphne, who had just entered the common room, his voice filled with resentment. "Do you know why? Because she's going to recommend him for the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Seeker! Freshman!"

Pansy's eyes widened: "First grade? But that's against the rules!"

“Professor McGonagall is the dean; she can make an exception,” Daphne said softly, sitting down next to Pansy. “If a student displays extraordinary talent…”

"Extraordinary talent?" Draco scoffed. "He just barely escaped breaking his neck during the dive! Prince Henry saved someone too, and did it even better—"

He paused, searching for the right words.

"More professional. Henry controlled the broom, cushioning the landing, while Porter just rushed in like a madman to catch the ball!"

Pansy's eyes darted around, and she suddenly said, "If Potter can do it, why can't Your Highness?"

Upon hearing this, the Slytherins around him all turned around.

Draco sat up straight: "What do you mean?"

“What I mean is,” Pansy’s tone became fervent, “His Highness also displayed extraordinary flying ability today, didn’t he? He saved Longbottom, and his aerial maneuvering was so precise, it didn’t seem like that of a freshman. If Porter can be promoted to the team just because of one save, why can’t His Highness Henry, who saved someone, do the same?”

Daphne nodded thoughtfully: "Besides, Slytherin definitely needs some fresh blood this year. Captain Flint has been complaining about the lack of bench depth, especially at the Seeker position..."

"But Professor Snape didn't know about this."

A fifth-year girl interrupted; she was Miss Farley, the Slytherin prefect.

She had been sitting quietly reading a book not far away, but now she looked up and gazed in their direction.

"Professor McGonagall witnessed Potter's actions firsthand, which is why she was able to act immediately. But Professor Snape had classes in the afternoon and wasn't there."

Draco's eyes lit up: "Then, Miss Farley, we need to let Professor Snape know."

"How do we tell him?" Pansy pressed. "Should we just go and say, 'Professor, Henry flew very well today'?"

“That would be too deliberate,” Daphne said softly, twirling a strand of blonde hair between her fingers. “Besides, it would sound like… well, like friends flattering each other.”

Prefect Farley closed his book and stood up: "This matter needs to be handled skillfully. If handled well, it will not only help Mr. Wells gain an opportunity, but also make Professor Snape realize that Gryffindor has a Seeker, and Slytherin has an equal, or even better, option."

She approached the group of first-year students: "You are witnesses. What you need to do is, at the right time and in the right way, let Professor Snape learn by chance what happened this afternoon. The point is not to plead, but to state the facts—especially those that highlight Mr. Wells's competence, composure, and willingness to help his fellow students."

"Help students from other houses?" Draco frowned. "That doesn't sound very Slytherin."

“Look at it another way,” Farley’s lips curled into a smile, “that demonstrates a vision and leadership that transcends the rivalry between the houses. And saving Longbottom means taking away a narrative of being ‘saved’ from Gryffindor. Now they can only boast that Potter caught the ball, while we can say that a Slytherin student prevented a serious accident.”

Henry walked into the common room at that moment. He had changed out of his dirty robe from flight class and was wearing a dark green casual robe. The red marks on his wrists had faded considerably, but they were still noticeable upon closer inspection.

All eyes were on him.

"Oh, everyone's here," Henry said calmly, as if oblivious to the unusual atmosphere.

He walked to the empty chair by the fireplace and sat down. The invisible house-elf immediately conjured a cup of hot tea and placed it on the small table beside him.

Miss Farley noticed this detail, and her eyebrows twitched imperceptibly.

"We're discussing it," Draco said somewhat eagerly, "that Porter has been selected by Professor McGonagall for the Gryffindor Quidditch team—the Seeker."

Henry paused slightly as he took the teacup, then casually sipped it. "Really? That's a good thing for Gryffindor."

"Don't you think it's unfair?" Pansy leaned forward. "You flew really well today too! You saved Longbottom! If Porter can get on the team, you should be able to too!"

Henry put down his teacup, the porcelain cup making a crisp clinking sound against the tray.

He glanced around at the expectant faces, his gaze finally settling on Prefect Farley, who was scrutinizing him.

"A rule is a rule because it applies equally to everyone," Henry began slowly. "Professor McGonagall made an exception for Potter based on her judgment and authority as Associate Head of the House. But Slytherin..."

He paused.

"We don't usually take pride in begging for an exception."

Draco opened his mouth, but Farley spoke first.

"A wise view. But sometimes, letting those in power know the whole truth is not a request, but a responsibility. Professor Snape has the right to know what kind of talent his house has, especially when the rivals have already taken action."

"So what's your suggestion?" Henry asked, looking at Farley.

“My advice is,” Miss Farley said softly, “you should continue your training at Flint and demonstrate your abilities. Meanwhile, what happened in today’s flight lesson will reach Professor Snape’s ears in the proper way. Not through you, nor through your friends reporting directly, but through a more natural channel.”

"What channel?" Pansy asked curiously.

Miss Farley smiled mysteriously: "The walls of Hogwarts can talk, if you know how to make them speak."

She nodded to Henry: "Continue doing what you're supposed to do, Mr. Wells. Maintain the advantage you've established, and leave the rest to me."

She picked up the book, turned gracefully and left, leaving the first-grade students looking at each other in bewilderment.

"What does she mean?" Draco frowned.

"She means," Daphne explained softly, "that she will make sure Professor Snape hears the whole story—including Potter's selection and His Highness's abilities."

Henry sat on the sofa, quietly sipping his tea.

He knew Miss Farley's method was correct—in Slytherin, direct requests were often seen as weak, while information delivered through a seemingly accidental third party was considered a more sophisticated approach.

This aligns with Sir Arnold's teaching: true power often operates beneath the surface.

Of course, this was all part of Henry's plan, and everything was proceeding as he had set out.